Deep Terror
by AuraThundera
Summary: Yet Another Jaws Fic! I'd forgotten I had these. Anyway, Brody confronts his fear of sharks and water.


Deep Terror

Deep Terror   
Aura Thundera   
[deonii@yahoo.com][1]

*   
Disclaimer: The characters of Jaws are not my creation.   
Many thanks to whoever posted the info about the movie "The Car" to the Jaws discussion forum. They provided the inspiration for this story. Heh. I do believe this movie was directed by the stepfather of my favorite singer. It really is a small world after all, ain't it?   
* 

Waves crashed on the sand of the beach, the sound lonely in the post-vacation-season quiet. Martin Brody drove along the road in the October silence, enjoying the solitude. For a few months, Amity would be a quiet place without tourists or the crime they seemed to bring along.

A few months without any tourists being eaten-or thinking that they were. The shark was dead and gone, and there was no reason for another shark to return. But that did not stop teenage boys from screaming their heads off and jerking around as though they were being eaten.

There was precious little the police chief could do about pranksters that were on the beach one day and home the next.

And that, that was what worried him. How were they to know if it were really a joke, or if another shark had wandered to the island, perhaps with revenge in its piscine mind?

It worried him a lot, nagged at him, gnawed away at his mind. What if? What if another shark came to Amity? What if a whole family of sharks came and started breeding offshore? What if? What if?

Martin had sucessfully hidden his fear and worry from his wife and family. But how long could he keep hiding his worries from them?

He knew that his sons wer picking up on his nervousness. Michael steered clear whenever he could, and Shaun pushed away whenever Martin tried to hold him.

Martin saw his house looming up ahead. Now he had to put on a smile and pretend that everything was okay. Using his heel, he quickly pushed the bottle of Jack Daniels far under the seat. He hadn't been drinking it, but Ellen didn't need to find it, either.

The screen door smacked shut behind him. Michael ran out yelling at the top of his lungs. "Dad's home!"

Ellen rushed out of the kitchen and gave him a hug. "Did you have a good day?"

_I haven't had a good day since that dratted shark munched on Chrissie Watkins,_ Martin thought, but grinned and said, "Yeah, all we had to deal with was a few guys who had too many beers down at Quincy's Tavern. They busted up a fence, and the owner pressed charges."

Ellen laughed. "I had to deal with a pair of Californian millionaires who wanted a summer place. This or that, they were never satisfied. This one is too small, the next too big, that one too dark."

The family sat down to dinner. Martin didn't enjoy the little tidbits of family news. It was too difficult to hide the fear that was a part of him now. He supposed that that fear would always be there, and someday he'd have to tell the truth. But not today.

Shaun and Michael were asleep. Ellen was watching a movie on the television, but it wasn't terribly good. It was about a car that menaced innocent pedestrians and bicyclists.

Martin was sweating. He didn't like this movie, not at all. It was too close to the way that the shark had been preying on innocent swimmers on the beaches.

Martin leaned over and turned the TV off. Ellen gave him an offended glare before noticing the nervous look in her husband's eyes. In that instant, Ellen knew what was wrong.

Oh, she had been afraid herself. But it had passed in time, and she could lead wealthy vacationers around the houses that the real estate agency was handling without envisioning them in the teeth of a monstrous shark now.

But how many times worse the fear must have been for Martin? Martin who felt responsible for every life that had been lost to that shark? Martin, who had been responsible for those people's safety, and did not realize that some things just happened.

Ellen never saw her husband shed a tear for any who had died to fill the belly of the finned terror. Not for Chrissie Watkins, not for Alex Kintner, not for the Amity scoutmaster or Quint.

And maybe that was the problem. But she would say nothing until Martin was ready. Ellen decided to divert Martin's attention. She slid her hand under his shirt to caress his chest through his undershirt.

It worked.

"Not here," Martin whispered, leading her toward the bedroom.

Ellen willingly followed, then shoved Martin down on the bed and shut the door. Moonlight streamed in through the window.

Ellen joined Martin on the bed, and quickly got his shirt and undershirt off. Martin sat there in the moonlight, the light giving his bare, handsome chest a silver sheen.

One moment Martin's lips were warm on Ellen's, and the next instant, he was gone. Two feet of chill air separated them, and tears dripped down Martin's face.

_So he's finally letting it out,_ Ellen thought. "Come on, Martin, let go. Come here," she whispered.

_ Ellen knows,_ Martin thought. _I wonder when she figured it out. It was probebly that blasted movie. It rattled me, and it must have shown._

Martin leaned over, and Ellen clutched his head to her chest and let him cry. Martin finally released all the fear, pain, and hate that he had kept close to his heart for too long.

At last, Martin's wracking sobs died away into the silence.

Ellen managed to whisper out, "I'm glad you finally let this out. I love you too much to watch you lose your mind to fear."

"And I love you," Martin said, raising his lips for a kiss. But before Martin and Ellen could indulge, there was a knock at the door, and Shaun appeared in the doorway.

"Mommy, I had a bad dream," Shaun said. "There were sharks falling from the clouds and one of them ate Daddy."

"Daddy's fine," Ellen said. "Here, why don't you crawl in between us. Then you can feel that Daddy is still here."

Shaun obligingly crawled between Ellen and Martin. As their son curled up, Ellen gave Martin a rueful look.

"Another night, sweetheart. There will always be another night," Martin whispered.

   [1]: mailto: deonii@yahoo.com



End file.
